Candidly Speaking: Cameron Sullivan

Where Have All the Journalists Gone?

2012-01-04T11:06:00.000-08:00

Despite professional editors' glut of hungry writers tapping at their in-boxes, it's time to get back to basics. Time to write and curate more works with true news organizations.

It's time for experienced, ethical journalists who have the proper education, background, "chops" and talent to make a difference by publishing content that counts.

Is she a columnist? Is she a feature writer? Is she a journalist? Is she a quality content producer? Yes - to all of the above!

Shamelessly, the following list of my accomplishments is best read whileimagining the song to “Superman” in the back of your mind:

20 year communications professional; educated writer with fluid style and ability to reach the heart of a story in seconds.
Able to produce compelling 500-900 word columns or feature articles at warp speed.
Able to provoke laughter, tears and philosophy in every individual story.
Prolific writer. Published approximately half a million words over the past 10 years on a part-time basis (while multi-tasking in other professional projects).
Skilled at extracting local feature or news angles from major topics of broad interest.
Able to find unique, unexpected feature or profile angles within assignment topics.
Resourceful, connected and passionate about topics of interest at the local, national or international level.
Able to cultivate and connect with sources and people of interest and craft stories that resonate with readers.
Able to write with authority on various topics, including the arts, community interests, entertainment, education, home improvement, health and fitness, family, business.
Provides impeccable work in exchange for low contract/freelance fees, coffee and pats on the back.
Will add liveliness and good attitude to any work environment, virtual or in person.

Seeking assignments with reputable news organizations.

Also welcome opportunities to help businesses make an impression with their audiences through solidly orchestrated, high-quality PR, social media relations and web content creation.

Happy Festivus - This Fri., Dec.23

2011-12-21T19:24:00.000-08:00

It's time for The Airing of Grievances and The Feats of Strength!
Of course, don't forget to dance around the Festivus Pole.

A need to share

2011-08-19T11:59:00.000-07:00

... the beautiful words of my friend, Keely Parrack, who reflected recently on our mutual friend, Grace Navalta, who died last month after a sudden turn in her fight against cancer. Thanks, Keely, for your beautiful words, so heartfelt and moving.

http://keely-inkster.blogspot.com/2011/08/white-handkerchief.html

Not Your Typical Tourist

2011-04-19T19:00:00.000-07:00

This 'tourist' walked 15-20 miles today, and took select photographs of sights not usually depicted in popular travel books... So... "Where's Cameron?" The photos will become more 'telling' as the week progresses. In the meantime, enjoy these quaint scenes of lovely, historic architecture and spring blooms.

Candid Cameron: "A Bit More"

2011-03-14T22:50:00.000-07:00

A Bit More

by Cameron Sullivan

Smile a bit more broadly.

Hug a bit longer.

Respect a bit more openly.

Laugh a bit louder.

Say thank-you a bit oftener.

Make love a bit slower.

Help out a bit better.

Walk a bit lighter.

Move a bit more gracefully.
Give a bit more.

Forgive, and forget, a bit sooner.

Wish a little.

And pray even more.

Please forgive my waxing poetic. But this reflection came to me tonight as I was quietly thinking about the people of Japan, how their lives are turned upside down, and how all the world will surely be affected in some way by this disaster. I was reminded that we ought to stick together - a bit more. And that I should remember, a bit more, how grateful I am for all I have, all the people I love, all that I am, and all that is beautiful in this world. Simply, for life.

Roast Leg of ... Pants?

2010-12-18T16:14:00.000-08:00

Who knew a cookbook could create such family fun - without entering the kitchen?

Relaxing at home one rainy night last week, my husband and I discussed the leg of lamb we hoped to cook for an upcoming dinner with friends. We’ve never cooked a leg of lamb... Yes, we are aware that hosts and hostesses should not prepare new dishes for the first time at a dinner party. Fortunately, the family we’ll be entertaining are forgiving, good-humored people (who, thankfully, also have never made leg of lamb).

Our first stop was an old edition of “The Joy of Cooking.” Glasses of wine in hand by the Christmas tree, we reviewed various preparations for leg of lamb. Soon, however, our kids overheard my husband reading aloud from the cookbook and all three kids and the dog had gathered 'round to hear recipes for “sweet breads” and various other organs and body parts.

Given the "gross-out factor" that struck the kids upon hearing how to cook brains, kidneys or pig feet, I requested that my husband use another, non-anatomical noun to replace the body part names. Our youngest daughter suggested the word “pants.” Within seconds, we were laughing our pants off - not to mention our brains. Would our friends appreciate "Roast Leg of Pants" instead, we wondered?

The cooking lesson follows:

ABOUT PANTS (adapted from “The Joy of Cooking” – 1994 edition, page 504) *

Calf, sheep, lamb, pork and beef pants are listed in order of preference. Pants may be used in all recipes calling for sweetbreads, but as with sweetbreads, pants must be very fresh. Keep refrigerated, for pants are very perishable.

To prepare pants, give them a preliminary soaking of 1½ to 2 hours in cold, acidulated water (p. 520). After skinning, soak pants in several changes of cold water for 1 hour to free them from all traces of blood. Then, as pants are rather mushy in texture, firm them by simmering in acidulated water to cover, about 20 minutes for calf pants, 25 for the others. Be sure the water does not boil. Let the pants cool in the cooking liquid about 20 minutes before draining. If not using immediately, refrigerate the drained pants. Pants are often combined with eggs or with sweetbreads in ragout and soufflés. Because they are bland, be sure to give the dish in which they are used a piquant flavoring, as suggested below. Allow 1 pound of pants for 4 servings, or 1 set for 2 servings.

With laughing cramps in our sides, soon each one of the kids wanted to start writing a recipe using inanimate nouns in place of the word "brains."

Even the brain recipe, verbatim, brought some raucous laughs:

ABOUT BRAINS (from “The Joy of Cooking” – 1976 edition, page 504)

Calf, sheep, lamp, pork and beef brains are listed in order of preference. Brains may be used in all recipes calling for sweetbreads, but as with sweetbreads, they must be very fresh. Keep refrigerated, for they are very perishable.

To prepare them, give them a preliminary soaking of 1 ½ to 2 hours in cold, acidulated water (p. 520). After skinning, soak brains in several changes of cold water for 1 hour to free them from all traces of blood. Then, as they are rather mushy in texture, firm them by simmering in acidulated water to cover, about 20 minutes for calf brains, 25 for the others. Be sure the water does not boil. Let the brains cool in the cooking liquid about 20 minutes before draining. If not using immediately, refrigerate the drained brains. Brains are often combined with eggs or with sweetbreads in ragout and soufflés. Because they are bland, be sure to give the dish in which they are used a piquant flavoring, as suggested below. Allow 1 pound of brains for 4 servings, or 1 set for 2 servings.

Further suggested servings of brain in the cook book included Sauteed Brains, Baked Brains, Baked Brains and Eggs, and Broiled Brains. These prompted a few possible presentations, courtesy of this blog author:

Sauteed Brains might be those that of college students who have sizzled for too many hours in the sun on spring break. As for baked brains, although I personally have not experienced this type of brain, I did meet several baked brains between 1983 and 1989. The idea of Baked Brains and Eggs sounded good for breakfast after a particularly exhausting night.

The best part of our spontaneous gathering that night was that we all used our brains creatively. Without realizing it, the kids were learning and trying new ways to train their brains. We didn't spoil the fun by informing them of this fact. And we didn't even have to eat any brains.

Acceptance, Normalcy are Overrated

2010-11-17T10:40:00.000-08:00

“You're mad, bonkers, off your head. But I'll tell you a secret - all the best people are.”

This line from Tim Burton's “Alice in Wonderland” – introduced early on by Alice’s dad, and repeated later by Alice herself – epitomizes a guiding philosophy not just in my daily life, but in my role as parent.

I’d rather be bonkers than normal.

Hopefully this philosophy explains why, 12 years after becoming a parent, I have twin 10-year-old daughters who aren’t afraid to act goofy or be considered “weird,” and a 12-year old son who is fearless of trying anything new.

Worrying about acceptance is a waste of time and energy. Some may consider it a personality flaw not to be interested in “belonging.” But acceptance isn’t really my thing.

My vocation as an opinion writer and humorist is quite possibly an extension of an inherent personality flaw: I get paid to make fun of myself and voice quirky, arguable opinions. In doing so, I hope to make readers think, or at least chuckle or gasp in frustration before calling me a complete idiot. And I’m thrilled when readers react; especially when they disagree.

How can a person know her capabilities if she doesn’t test the limits, personally, mentally, physically and socially?

If everyone spent his or her life worrying about being accepted, whether by individuals, groups, or political parties, there would be no variation among humanity’s nearly seven billion members.

If everyone were normal, we’d be one big, happy – and agreeably stupid – bunch of androids.

If everyone were normal, we’d be one big, happy – and agreeably stupid – bunch of androids.

Despite my aversion to normalcy, I don’t think I’m a selfish, social imbecile; I do cherish the value of a good reputation. Given nothing else, a person can forge a path for herself with intelligence and a good reputation.

Nevertheless, I hope people don't consider me “normal.” Normal is boring. The parts of reputation, however, that deserve the most attention, are the parts defined by personal values, ethics, humility, sense of humor, level of compassion, and the wisdom to know when and where to dive into a situation – or back off.

I’ll admit that when I enter a new situation, I stand back and observe for a range of time spanning anywhere from 2.5 seconds to 2.5 weeks, depending on the type of situation, the size of group, the frequency of gatherings, the location of gatherings, and how much beer is poured. On rare instances in which I don’t reach the comfort-level to be my true self, then the group is likely not right for me – or I for it. No love is lost by parting before we began.

It’s not worth it to live a life based on other people’s idea of normalcy.

In being bonkers, however, I have learned that when I’m able crack through others’ outer layer, most folks are not only amused but relieved to be in the presence of someone who doesn’t worry about fitting a so-called “normal” mold.

It's good to be "mad, bonkers, off your head."

Where does all the (school) funding go?

2010-11-10T14:07:00.000-08:00

I'm no statistician. In fact, I try to avoid statistics. But some statistics are too frightening to ignore.

A chart developed by The Atlantic and re-published on GOOD.is, compares U.S. states to nations across the globe, based on achievements in mathematics. The chart compares 58 nations to the 50 United States and ranks each nation or state on an equal plane.

Ironically, the state-to-nation rankings aren't what frighten me most. Despite my aversion to numbers, it is the position of each state on the state-to-nation comparison that grabs my attention.

Food for thought: The state ranking 32nd in the above mentioned comparison, California (which would rank at 71 out of 108 when all states are treated nations), receives only 29% of its funding from local sources, versus state or federal sources.*

The highest-ranking state in the above-mentioned comparison, Massachusetts, receives 53% of its funding from local sources, per statistical results released this year for 2008 and 2009, from the National Center for Educational Statistics (NCES), a div. of the US Dept of Ed.* Incidentally, on the chart from The Atlantic, Massachusetts, were it a nation, would rank at number 17 overall -- behind 16 other nations.

Some may argue that the dismal U.S. rankings may provide as "persuasive a case for national education standards as any currently out there," (per GOOD). If so, however, then shouldn't states like MA (where local dollars presumably lead to better achievement) be concerned about the possibility of nationalizing education?

There's no denying that the U.S. falls behind other nations in rankings for test scores. The greater concern should be that state-by-state comparisons beg for greater attention to how school funds are spent.

In a peculiar observation, if you closely compare observing the above three charts you'll find that the state of Missouri ranks lower than California in the comparison chart in The Atlantic but that Missouri receives a greater portion of its school funding from local sources than Massachusetts. With this possible false-dichotomy of school spending to performance, states and municipalities that effectively manage their funds should be worried about nationalized education.

Where does this place the highest-ranking school districts of the lowest-ranking states?

Coming Soon on the Candid Cameron blog: U.S. students may be failing, relatively, on tests involving rote-memorization. But are we teaching the critical thinking methods necessary for developing life skills that can advance our youth to leadership?

*SOURCES:
Table 1: http://nces.ed.gov/pubs2010/2010326.pdf
Table 17: http://nces.ed.gov/programs/digest/d09/tables/dt09_017.asp

"My Kid is Better than Your Kid!"

2010-11-05T16:53:00.000-07:00

I don't often post my weekly columns here, but this one is taking on a life of its own. Here's this week's column on AOL/Patch...

"My kid is better than your kid!" There. It's good to get that out in the open.

With most Pleasanton parents holding bachelor's or advanced degrees, we're bound to have a population of children with higher-than-average performance in many areas of life. But as admirable as this statistic may be, astounding achievements shouldn't be our only measures of children's success.

I'm happy for parents whose kids will be Rhodes Scholars, Olympic champions, runway models, professional athletes and maestros – all before the age of 10. Really, I am. But the parental bragging antics can go too far. People tell me the boasting occurs all across Pleasanton.

For instance, when I innocently displayed excitement to a friend over one of my children's good grades, I mentioned that it wasn't the grades that most impressed me but that my child had worked so hard for them.

My friend responded by saying, "Well, (my child) doesn't have to try! He gets straight A's anyway!"

I bit my tongue. If only I'd had the courage to respond the way I wanted to.

"If you think that's impressive," I should have said, "you ought to hear my child's armpit farts! Mark my words, we'll have a world-record holder one day!"

In a "Community of Character," the character is what should count.

Success should not be defined by a predetermined mold of test scores, number of extracurricular activities, and a child so committed to a singular sport that he misses out on new adventures.

It brings a smile to my face, however, when parents praise a child for success that results purely from passion, not the parents' pushing. For example, my friend Shelley Casey's son, Nathan, runs faster than the wind and also manages to be a down-to-earth, clever 12-year-old with an uncanny ability to make fun of himself. So when Shelley showed good humor in posting Nathan's Hart Middle School cross-country triumphs in her Facebook status, the accolades came in waves.

Shelley's excitement was for her son's devotion to an activity he loves, and it showed. Nathan, meanwhile, owns his accomplishment with a healthy, amusing attitude.

Another friend, whose children attend Fairlands Elementary and Hart and who asked that I not identify her, said omissions of compliments also are telling.

"I don't feel any competition when my kids either succeed or don't succeed in something," she said, adding that she always tries to compliment someone or their child whenever she can. "But sometimes it seems that it's people who are less secure in themselves who try to live through their children's successes," she said.

I have to wonder if my friend has a point. I also believe that each of us is the sum total not only of our successes but of how well we adjust after failure.

The child who can shrug off a bad grade or a poor athletic performance — and learn from it — is better equipped for life's inevitable challenges than the child who is pushed or spoon-fed through every activity and coddled after every failure.

Kelly Lensing, whose children attend Lydiksen Elementary and Hart, notices that some Pleasanton parents seem to propagate social stigmas by worrying too much.

"I've noticed – even with myself – that if parents have a concern that our children will have a negative experience in the future," she said, "then we'll try to protect them from our fear by bolstering them against possible negative exposure. But by giving them scripts to follow, we're actually lending credibility to the viewpoint we fear."

By way of example, Kelly spoke of children of mixed race or those who have special needs and whose parents provide them language to use should they be questioned about perceived differences.

"I wonder sometimes if we wouldn't serve our children better simply by making a conscious effort to remain staunchly in their corner," she said.

Perhaps the parental "one-upmanship" is not unique to Pleasanton. By what measurement does our community rate good parenting or children? Is there danger in rating either?

Although I'm not a perfect parent and have no illusions of raising perfect children, it takes conscious effort to resist the urge to protect my children from reality —even in this hamlet of Pleasanton that we know and love so much.

Androgynous history? Another way school systems fail our kids

2010-10-24T16:46:00.000-07:00

As a linguist, I was thrilled when my middle-school aged child came home from school one recent afternoon and explained that the Language Arts and History teacher discussed root words with the class that day.

The ability to identify root words along with understanding how to read contextual clues is – after all – the next best way to find word meaning when a child is not asked to perform the extraordinary effort of flipping open a dictionary.

“There’s something about my teacher that some people are kind of annoyed by and that some people just think is funny,” said my child. “But once in a while my teacher gets off on a tangent about a topic and forgets what we were supposed to be doing!”

On that day, according to my child, after discussing with the class the root word andro- (meaning, man), my child explained that the teacher ended up on a tangent discussing androgyny. I stood up a little straighter at this revelation.

Not that there’s anything wrong with androgyny. I hold no opinions or prejudices whatsoever regarding men or women who may be androgynous, whether their androgyny comes by way of social identity, fashion expression, sexual or social proclivity or even as a result of biology.

“It was funny. He got so sidetracked talking about androgyny that we didn’t have enough time to finish class. We had to skip history!” my child added.

“What did he say about androgyny?” I asked, sitting down across the kitchen table from my child.

“He said it’s when a person looks and acts like both a boy and a girl at the same time or they’re part girl and part boy,” my child said, pointing to the lower part of the body. “You know, like down there. He said it’s actually becoming more common. And then he said he knows a lot of people who are androgynous. It was kind of weird and funny at the same time.”

I asked my child to elaborate some more.

“The weirdest thing was that after class I realized it was kind of ironic that we were talking about androgyny, because there’s actually someone in my class who’s androgynous.”

“What do you mean?” I was sure to steady my voice and appear calm.

“There’s a person in my class who I know is a girl, but she always looks like a boy.”

“Sweetheart,” I told my child. “The term androgyny might refer to a person’s ability to represent themselves as both feminine and masculine – or neither one nor the other. But in terms of a middle-school aged child, I’m not sure the word androgyny is the best choice. Most twelve-year olds are still figuring out who they are, experimenting with their identity."

I then asked if the teacher had discussed what the word “hermaphrodite” means.

When my child said, “no,” I explained that that the part of the teacher’s definition of androgyny that indicated androgynous people have both male and female sex organs - not just appearance - has a medical description separate from androgyny.

I also asked if the teacher had discussed the root word gynous – the other half of the word androgynous.

My child said “no.”

Always looking for the positive, I decided that it’s good my child felt comfortable speaking openly about the topic with me. Because of my child's openness, I was able to provide information that the teacher omitted, regardless of the fact that a casual conversation about androgyny is wholly inappropriate for seventh-grade history class. Other parents I asked said their children had not yet discussed the in-class conversation on androgyny at home.

There's a pretty good chance that the Rise of the Roman Empire will be on the seventh-grade standardized test. Perhaps they ought to add androgyny to the packet so some seventh graders at one local school can show what they learned in history class. Then, our school district (which sits in the top 5% of California schools) can publicize the diverse education it offers its student.

And we wonder why even the best schools are failing our children.

.

On Politics and Middle Fingers

2010-10-19T20:09:00.000-07:00

It's one of the hottest Congressional battles in the country.

In California's 11th Congressional District, which comprises a large, meandering swath of geography just east of San Francisco, Bay Area businessman and attorney, Republican David Harmer, is aiming to unseat incumbent Democrat Jerry McNerney for the 11^th District seat in the U.S. House of Representatives.

Today, Harmer joined ultra-conservative talk show host G. Gordon Liddy on the air.

Whether you love them both or hate them both, you can’t argue that segments of their dialogue were hilariously brilliant:

Harmer: “Your good (listeners), who would like to help me send [Speaker of the House] Nancy Pelosi [D-CA/San Francisco] a nice big middle finger - right here in her own backyard - could go to harmerforcongress.com. Pitch a bit into the treasury and we’ll put it to good use!"

Liddy: “I can’t think of anything better than to fire Nancy Pelosi. I mean, that woman is dangerous!”

a bit later, from Harmer: “… In fact, this [the 11^th Congressional] is the last true swing district in California. Through gerrymandering, most of the incumbents, Republicans and Democrats, are absolutely safe. But this is our best chance to flip a seat on the West Coast. And again it’s right in Nancy’s backyard, so it would send just a lovely signal of extreme dissatisfaction to... uh… the Madam.”

Liddy: laughter

Cameron: Vote.

The Toad and the Plastic Fool (or "Novel writer's conundrum")

2010-09-01T10:20:00.000-07:00

Writing is far more enjoyable than revising.

Creating is far more enjoyable than cutting.

It's Sept. 1, 2010, the start date of what I hope will be the last major revision of my YA historical fiction novel before I submit the first 15 pages for another professional critique (due Sept 15) and begin to send queries to specific agents in hopes of publication.

Trouble is, my efforts were thwarted this morning. When I opened my documents to pull up the latest revision, I came across an unexpected document saved among my files. Written yesterday by my 10-year-old daughter, Mary, the document presents the opening to another of Mary's frequent short story creations.

Now this novel writer wonders: Which would be more successful: Revising my YA historical fiction for the umpteenth time after several reads and critiques by writers, editors, et al, or encouraging Mary to finish her story, and then sending agent queries on Mary's behalf?

Perhaps I should try for both.

Following is Mary's latest WIP. I'll update as she progresses:

The Toad and the Plastic Fool
by Mary Sullivan (Work in Progress)

There was a pond in the middle of Algae, a town settled by frogs, toads, and animals of that nature. And on a rather small rock in the middle of the pond sat a small, interesting house that belonged to a rich toad named Fred Dixon. The house was 3 stories high and had a tiny bedroom on a 3rd level. And that was all that was on that level, so it looked a good deal like a giant chimney. Fred Dixon died a few years ago and gave his house to his son Robert Dixon.

One day Robert (or Bob as he preferred to be called) was walking to the grocery store. Suddenly a plastic man jumped out from a bush and said “Oh look at this guy, he

[to be continued]...

Forget Fear & Greed: I'm a Lover!

2010-06-04T12:56:00.001-07:00

I am no billionaire investor, but I’m sure glad I do not conform to a common analysis of personality traits ascribed to investors of all levels: My primary motivating factor is neither fear nor greed.

When famed investor Warren Buffett asserted that people are either motivated by fear or by greed, he was speaking of investors. Sure, a smart person can twist that concept to make it suit any aspect of life, thereby categorizing all people, in all aspects of each of their lives, as either motivated by fear or motivated by greed.

Buffett's fear-greed comparison was not intended not to supply fearful people with the excuse of a “personality type” that they could use to justify fear-driven actions in parts of their lives outside financial investments.

In the stock market, on a very basic, initial level, perhaps a person can be categorized as such: Motivated either by fear or by greed.

In life, however, a set of circumstances and environments unique to every individual creates an analogy that is not as cut-and-dried as the “fear versus greed” analogy.

Consider the possibility of being motivated by fear and/or LOVE, for instance; this philosophy is far more promising than fear versus greed, especially as related to matters of the heart, or any part of life outside the bank account.

What are matters of the heart, anyway? Everything is a matter of the heart. Even the stock market, I'm willing to argue, is affected by matters of the heart. Not to digress, however... I'll research and elaborate on that concept in another post.

Mr. Buffett, when it comes to investing, there may be no other like you. And your advice for folks in the business world to look at investors as either motivated by fear or by greed is sound – but it stops when the bell rings at the end of the day.

I choose to be motivated by Love and I do so shamelessly.

If someone who is motivated by Love is labeled by fearful persons as greedy, then the fearful need enlightenment.

If, instead, people can remember that Love is more powerful than greed, and more freeing that fear, then they understand how to live life to the fullest.

There are many cycles people can choose for their lives; some also are the results of happenstance. But imagining we can choose a cycle, which, of these general types, would you choose for yourself (and, I admit, my wording below is a bit manipulative, but this is my blog after all!):

1) Fear leads to anger which leads to resentment which leads to frustration which can lead to success, but which can also lead back to fear.

2) Greed leads to frivolity which leads to carelessness and recklessness and buries the truth in superfluous living.

3) Love leads to freedom which leads to expression, which leads to sharing, which leads back to Love.

I’m all about #3. But fear not: I am sensible enough to leave a little room for fear, when necessary, to allow the production of adrenalin in times of emergency.

No more Mrs. Cleavers, please!

2010-05-13T20:23:00.001-07:00

As seen on Facebook earlier this week after a parenting moment I was less-than-proud of but still decided to forgive myself:

Cameron Newman Sullivan: "Yup. It's true. I'm no "Leave it to Beaver" or "Good Housekeeping" mom. Never have been; probably never will be. One day I hope my children will thank me for not fitting the mold.

Five FB friends replied saying they "liked" my post. Others egged me on:

From my friend Lindy: "Do you think your kids know what/who "Leave It To Beaver" is? I never kept Good Housekeeping in my house so my kids never knew what they were missing . . . . :)

From my sister-in-law, Joan: "Me neither! I hope you had a Happy Mother's Day! xoxoxo"

From me: "@Lindy - They don't know what "LITB" is nor do they ever see "GH" sitting around, but there are an awful lot of June Cleavers in this town. On the flip side, John thinks I'm WAY hotter than June Cleaver!!!

From Lindy: "Yup, wayyyyyy hotter!"

This discussion has not ended. After a productive but harried April and May (thus far), I have a fresh, renewed outlook on motherhood and life as a multi-faceted woman.

"No Solicitors"

2009-11-13T08:58:00.001-08:00

The holiday season of a post-recession economy seems to have boosted solicitors' confidence.

A recent spate of door-to-door solicitations in my neighborhood has me thinking of new ways to say "No" to solicitors' offerings, on the rare occasions that I open the door. Last week the second of the slew of solicitors arrived, this one selling carpet cleaning services. When he told me about his service, I responded, "No thanks. I don't have carpets," expecting the conversation to end.

He said, "We clean rugs, too."
I replied, "I don't have rugs."
He pressed, "We clean floors, too."
I countered, "Actually, I don't even have floors."
Proving his IQ to be no more than 32, he responded, "OK. But what is that you're standing on?"
"Implants," I replied, feigning an embarrassed expression. "They're fake."

Later that afternoon on a break from work, I took the dog for a walk and saw two tall young white guys dressed in sharp-looking, baggy hip-hop style clothes. White gloves hung out of their back pockets and bounced with each step of the mens' matching hip-hop gaits. An hour earlier, they'd come to my house; I didn't answer the door.

Spotting me on the sidewalk across the street from the house they were soliciting, one of the men stepped of the home's front porch, turned around, stepped down the home's front lawn and called out, "Well! Hello, Miss! How are you today?"

I kept walking, smiled breifly in their direction and replied definitively.

"Hi! I'm doing great, thanks," I said cheerily, then turned and continued walking away adding, "Have a great day!"

Instant conversation-stopper.

I can't wait for the window-washers to arrive. I'll respond, in a tone that indicates paranoid superstitions, "No! Not window washing! I don't believe in cleaning my windows. When the glass is clean, the evil spirits get in!"

.

TVM's Bracken and Sullivan rock San Mateo

2009-09-29T12:26:00.000-07:00

With only two swimmers representing Tri Valley Masters at the San Mateo Master Marlins Swim & Eat Classic, Sept. 20, 2009, Tri Valley Masters placed 8th out of 20 teams competing. The meet and post-race BBQ, which was held in the relaxed environment of a short-course-meters pool in San Mateo, Calif., featured sprint races and relays.

Of the 47 points scored by Tri Valley Masters, Judy Bracken earned 27 for her four, First-Place swims in the 50 Fly, 50 Free, 50 Back and 100 IM. Cameron Sullivan contributed the remaining 19 points from her four races, the 50 Breast (1st), 50 Free (2nd), 100 IM (3rd) and 50 Back (4th).

Bracken and Sullivan considered swimming one of the relay events but feared meet disqualification for blatant disregard of the rules. Swimming more than one leg of a four-leg relay is prohibited by United States Masters Swimming and FINA rules.

Bracken provided some sound advice for her teammate, Sullivan, a distance swimmer who watched in awe as Bracken demonstrated how to sprint.

“Your freestyle looks really pretty,” Bracken said after one of Sullivan’s races, “but your arms just don’t move very fast.”

Sullivan, who only enjoys sprints after warming up in mile-long races, laughed. “I think I’ve heard that from Coach Daniel once or twice,” she said.

“Oh, well. I guess you’re just not a sprinter,” replied Bracken, who earlier lapped Sullivan in the 50 Fly. “But it’s always good to try new things!”

Sullivan agreed. Setting limits, athletically speaking, is for wimps.

From the Office for Intellectual Freedom

2009-09-18T10:18:00.000-07:00

Is it fortune or misfortune that several of the books I use for research on my novel-in-progress have held spots on a list of banned books? The lists are compiled annually by the American Library Association’s (ALA) division of the Office for Intellectual Freedom to demonstrate that many books are either threatened or censored from suggested reading lists at various levels.

ALA’s annual “Banned Books Week” celebration begins soon. From the ALA:

“Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read” is observed during the last week of September each year. Observed since 1982, this annual ALA event reminds Americans not to take this precious democratic freedom for granted. BBW celebrates the freedom to choose or the freedom to express one’s opinion even if that opinion might be considered unorthodox or unpopular and stresses the importance of ensuring the availability of those unorthodox or unpopular viewpoints to all who wish to read them. After all, intellectual freedom can exist only where the freedom to express oneself and the freedom to choose what opinions and viewpoints to consume are both met. As the Intellectual Freedom Manual (ALA, 7th edition) states:

Intellectual freedom can exist only where two essential conditions are met: first, that all individuals have the right to hold any belief on any subject and to convey their ideas in any form they deem appropriate; and second, that society makes an equal commitment to the right of unrestricted access to information and ideas regardless of the communication medium used, the content of the work, and the viewpoints of both the author and receiver of information. Freedom to express oneself through a chosen mode of communication, including the Internet, becomes virtually meaningless if access to that information is not protected. Intellectual freedom implies a circle, and that circle is broken if either freedom of expression or access to ideas is stifled."

What is the fate of my work-in-progress if its research is based on several “banned” or challenged books? What author would want her book banned? On the contrary, while painstakingly composing and revising my novel, I can only hope that audiences would find my work so compelling, so provocative, so inspiring and so bold that the work might spawn controversy. Alas, in my dream state I'm getting a bit ahead of myself...

Join me, however, at an event next week to celebrate the written word: Thursday, Sep. 24, my good friend Grace Navalta hosts her monthly literary gathering at Me & My Friends Café in Pleasanton (6-8 p.m., 4713 First St., Pleasanton). Literary types from across the area will gather for a nosh and an opportunity to share their own written works (published or not). I may read a selection from my novel in progress. Alternatively, I may read from one of the notable, but challenged, books on the ALA’s list that helped inspire my novel in progress.

Seeking a colorblind world

2009-07-27T19:35:00.000-07:00

Here is the August, 2009, issue of Bay Area Parent Magazine where you'll find my latest article; the article appears in both the East Bay edition as well as the San Francisco/Peninsula edition. After you open the link, "flip" to page 8 of the magazine where you'll find my story, "Seeking a Colorblind World," in the editor's note section (a high honor from spectacular Parenthood editor, Peggy Spear who took July off to travel Europe with her family and asked me to fill her award-winning space!).

Bay Area Parent/August, 2009

Finding opportunity in "Transition Time"

2009-07-21T21:14:00.000-07:00

I’m usually good at making transitions. As a child, my family moved seven times between my first year of life and my 19th, usually across time zones and into different metropolitan areas.

As a parent, I’ve fared well, also. When my kids moved from Kindergarten to First Grade, the transitions were easy. When my oldest graduated to Middle school, we were ready for that transition, too. School year to Summer Break is always an easy transition. Summer break back to the school year is an even easier transition. But I’m not so adept at handling friends’ transitions, unless such changes involve elaborate housewarming bashes after major kitchen remodels.

I’ve subconsciously been avoiding the reality of a dear friend's upcoming transition, busying myself instead with things like my kids' birthday parties (89 meals served or purchased in 4 days time), writing, kitchen remodel planning, working, sleeping, managing the summer household, and chasing after the dog (who, incidentally loves my friend’s dog like a brother – because they are brothers).

In a few days, my good friend Kathy Cordova is moving to a new city with her family. Kathy and I have known each other for eight years, since my twins were one year old. We met while Kathy was on assignment for an article about twins for the Pleasanton Weekly.

Within a few weeks of meeting Kathy, she helped me develop three additional new friendships with Amy Moellering, Grace Navalta and Keely Parrack. What began as a set of parallel friendships evolved, quickly, into a special bond: Five women, all from the same town and all who are passionate writers and lovers of fine wine.

Such was the birth of the Literary Lushes. Each of us – with our individual backgrounds, sets of talents, passions and personal lives – was discovered and placed together by our one common friend, Kathy. Each of us provides unique strength to the wheel that, with one spoke missing, is glaringly off-balance.

Kathy helped us form a group that, eight years later, is better described as a “telekinetic team” of literary friends than a group of gals who write. Between us, in eight years we have published or been published in at least a half-dozen books, hundreds (nay, thousands?) of newspaper articles, magazine articles, columns, editorials, blogs, anthologies and TV programs. Meanwhile, we’ve supported each other through personal and medical challenges, individual and professional triumphs, glorious celebrations and frustrating hurdles. These women are among the handful friends I know I can always count on. If I were to call one of these women in a moment of urgent need, she would be there for me as quickly as humanly possible, as I would be for her.

Now one of us is leaving. What to do? Perhaps I just need to look to the horizon. The horizon of the other side of the Bay, that is. You see, Kathy is only moving to Palo Alto. (My apologies, readers, for the melodrama leading up to this moment). It feels like she’s moving to a new time zone.

Perhaps I just need to realize it may not be so awful that Kathy is leaving. Sure, she won’t be a seven-minute drive from me, and weekly walks at the Sports Park on mornings off won’t be as easy to arrange. But maybe our comfort level over the past eight years could use a jump start. Perhaps a change of scenery and a regular drive Kathy’s new house will provide just the creative inspiration each of us always craves.

Plus, I know of some fine boutiques and restaurants in Palo Alto. The city conceivably may even have some fine kitchen design shops I could patronize for my own kitchen remodel. Then, barring major financial hardships, it will be I who’ll undergo the kind of transition that is easiest to handle: Dear friends, keep an eye out for that elaborate housewarming invitation some time this fall. I now have new reason to stop procrastinating on the remodel.

On Novel Writing and Love

2009-06-21T10:29:00.001-07:00

A recent blog post from lit agency, BookEnds, LLC put me in analogy mode, thinking about the relationship between novel writing and enduring relationships. Don't worry, I'm not writing a romance novel; I'm uniquely unqualified for such a task. Rather, my response to the blog's June 19 topic sparked the idea that writing a novel to the publishing stage shares much in common with maintaining a lasting, loving relationship:

The first draft is the "lust" stage of a new relationship.

The second draft is the first year of the relationship (but hopefully doesn't take a year to write).

The third draft is the "are we in this forever together?" stage.

The fourth draft (where I am now on my YA historical sci-fi) is the "holy cr*p, this relationship is hard work to maintain, but it means so much to me that I need to keep working on it. But first, let me take a week off and drink a few Mai Tais in Maui."

Simply put, neither art nor love is the result only of passion; both are the results of HARD work and persistence.

Now, enough blogging. Time to Focus and get back to that 4th draft. Thanks, Amy (my first reader) for your honest, poignant, encouraging comments on the 3rd draft.

Note to family members: If anyone needs clean clothes, there's a pile of them on the sofa in the office.

It must be summer break if...

2009-06-18T11:33:00.000-07:00

It must be summer break if...

I am woken up by a mockingbird at 4:55 a.m. because we left open the window the night before. The Flip Side: Deciding to go to 5 a.m. swim practice to spite the darn bird.
The street is blocked off for our kids’ co-ed baseball games at least three nights a week. The players set up right-field-bleacher seats for the adults in the garage. I love this game: High quality entertainment with free tickets and much lower priced beer.
The toilet overflows for the first time in years. Too many kids in the house.
I attempt to swim laps during a 15-minute adult swim but am interrupted five times – once when a child swatted my feet with a floatation noodle. Warning to Kids: If I only get 15 minutes of adult time a day, you’d better not interrupt me.
I have a hard time figuring out when to get in all my work/writing hours, but don’t care too much about that, this first week. Novel progress: Third draft was read and critiqued this week. Fourth draft due July 14.
My daughter has written more of her books this week than I have of mine. This is OK. Her writing is quite entertaining, with freakishly imaginative characters.
20% increase in grocery bill. Eat. Sleep. Swim. Eat. Sleep. Swim.
120% increase in towel-load laundry. Warning to Kids: Unless visibly soiled, if you throw a bath or pool towel in the hamper after only one use, it’ll be hung back up on the racks and you’ll have to figure out whose is whose.

21st Century Sex Ed

2009-05-01T09:06:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, the lesson had one-part, two-word name. Now, the same essential lesson has a two-part, ten-word moniker:

1979: Sex Ed

2009: Human Growth and Development, and Male and Female Reproductive Systems (hereafter referred to as HGaDaMaFRS).

Is this progress? Possibly, as it appears there are more issues covered in the late-elementary and early middle-school lessons offered in California schools today than 30 years ago. Still, there’s something to be said for using straight talk, getting to the point.

Let’s face it: It’s Sex Ed, folks. It’s OK to call it by its proper name. Honesty removes taboos.

In 1979 I lived in Potomac, Maryland, where the schools didn’t introduce Sex Ed until Sixth grade. We moved from Maryland to the suburbs of Chicago in June, 1979, just after I finished Fifth grade. In Illinois, students’ first introduction to Sex Ed took place in Fifth grade – the year before my arrival. Unbeknownst to me, I had missed the formal teachings.

Factor in my husband’s 13 years of Parochial school (Catholics didn’t talk about sex), and you might wonder how, four years after we were married, we managed to have three children in the span of 24 months.

I just signed the permission slip for my fifth grader to take the HGaDaMaFRS classes this month. I’ve done my research and I am not worried about the lessons. If I did have questions, however, the school district offers a parents-only meeting prior to the start of HGaDaMaFRS.

HGaDaMaFRS is going to be an interesting experience. Around our house, we’ve already had a series of conversations related to the topics of HGaDaMaFRS, including the social, emotional and physical changes of puberty and adolescence. Our ongoing discussion commenced last August when the addition of a puppy to our family sparked endless questions from the kids about reproduction. (My favorite was, “What does the dad have to do with it?”).

Our version of HGaDaMaFRS takes place largely at the kitchen table, often during snack time or homework time. No “session” is planned; spontaneity rocks. Conversations don’t include lectures and never last longer than five minutes. We answer all questions with honesty; when the questions stop, the conversation ends.

Quite frankly, I’m enjoying the openness of the subject around our house. Nothing is taboo. If one of our children asks about the subject, he or she likely is ready to know the truth, and we do our best to provide age-appropriate answers.

The conversations can flow freely. But when it comes to Sex Ed (or the more delicately put “HGaDaMaFRS”) we have an agreement in our family: “Mom and Dad will always answer your questions with the truth. No question is too silly to ask. Please don't start conversations with your friends about this yet, because we don't know what everyone else knows (or thinks they know) at this point. If you hear anything from other kids, please tell us what people are saying, especially if you’re confused – or amused. You don’t need to name names. We only want to be sure you’re getting the truth.”

Venus, meet Moon; Moon, meet Venus

2009-04-22T11:45:00.001-07:00

The thin, bright crescent moon was beautiful enough. But moments after arriving at the pool for Masters swim practice this morning, my teammates and I rubbed our bleary eyes, doubting that what we witnessed in the sky was really happening. With the blessing of a clear, dark sky at 5 a.m. this morning, some of us saw a rare, romantic, astronomical encounter, visible in the dark only from the Western U.S. As the moon slowly descended in the sky, it appeared to "kiss" Venus, which was behind it. I later learned that the event is called the "Moon's Occultation of Venus."

Here is the best YouTube VIDEO of the encounter I've found so far today; it was shot from Oregon, where the sky was a bit lighter than down here in Northern California: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93LrFStydEg

More detail in this excerpt from http://www.planetary.org/:

Moon Occults Venus:
This has nothing to do with the occult, but does involve darkness. If you live in western North America, then in the pre-dawn of April 22, you can witness a rare occultation of Venus by the crescent Moon -- that is, the Moon passes in front of Venus. Venus and the Moon will be very low to the horizon in the East, so you’ll need a clear view to the horizon, particularly for the beginning of the occultation. By the time Venus reappears, the Moon and Venus will be higher up in the East. The occultation (when the Moon will pass in front of Venus) will start a little after 5:00 a.m. Pacific Daylight Time. Exact timing depends on your location. Venus will reappear about an hour later, shortly before the Sun rises for most locations. But, since the Moon and Venus are both extremely bright, they’ll still be quite visible shortly before dawn. Even if you don’t live in the ideal spot for viewing, you still can check out Venus near the Moon before dawn. And, of course, check out other planets.

Going the Distance!

2009-04-11T21:10:00.000-07:00

If the folks at United States Masters Swimming had known how much I like talking about myself, they may not have selected me for the latest "Meet the Go-The-Distance Swimmer" profile posted on the USMS website. "Go The Distance," incidentally, is a motivational swim program offered through USMS in which swimmers aim to achieve swimming mileage goals throughout the year. We receive regular encouragement and submit monthly totals of yards, meters, miles and time in the water. For many of us, "Go the Distance" is a form of forced, but fun, accountability.

In the following link, you'll meet four intrepid Masters swimmers swimmers, from all over the U.S., whose stories were collected, edited and published by the very thoughtful - and talented - Greta Van Meeteren.

You'll find my write-up towards the end, along with a few swimming pictures, plus a few words about my beloved team, Tri-Valley Masters.

Here's the USMS article: Meet the Go-The-Distance Swimmers (note -- My story starts on page 7 and continues on page 8; it ends with a training plan for 'Dancing with the Stars')

Screaming at the top of my Ridge

2009-04-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

It was merely a suggestion. But on close examination of the idea, I realized that my dear friend Amy Moellering would not lead me astray. She would not intentionally walk me into an embarrassing situation - at least not unless the benefits would far outweigh the risk of looking completely insane.

After three days that have felt like an April-Fool’s Day joke turned sour, this morning I took Amy’s suggestion for letting loose.

At 8:30 a.m., with the sunlight reflecting off of a light haze and distant ribbons of fog lining the East Bay hills, my little dog and I briskly scaled the steepest path of the Pleasanton Ridge (the Oak Trail) - just a few miles from our house. We reached the summit in 20 minutes and I scanned the surrounding hills for signs of human life. When I was sure the coast was clear, I summoned some reckless abandon, sucked in a massive gasp of oxygen-rich fresh air -- and let it all back out again with a long, sharp shrill.

Fortunately, no one called out “Are you OK?” and no emergency vehicles arrived. Fueled by this absurdity, I decided that the first scream felt so good I needed another. This time I was smiling when I began, so the scream came out more like a high-pitched guffaw.

The dog looked a bit concerned, but the cattle on the hills didn’t seem to mind. But when the second scream trickled into a fit of laughter, my puppy began prancing about at my feet. Within minutes, we turned back and descended the long trail, the dog thrilled with a downhill hike and I with a new swing in my step and a grin on my face.

If you don't believe this story, just ask Amy. I called her just before the scream. When her voice mail answered, I said, "OK, Amy. It was your idea. You're doing this with me. Here we go. We're going to scream. Ready... Set... " and I included her as (hopefully) the only human witness to the screams.

"I screamed too!" Amy admitted later, "along with you on the voice recording--in my kitchen, in front of my dog. Did the neighbors react? Of course not. I guess they figured that it's just one new symptom of odd behavior from a family whose smoke alarm goes off at every meal and whose son regularly shucks lacrosse balls into their yards. It felt good! Let's do it again!"

Who cares if what we did might make some people think we're a bit off-balance. Even crazier would be not letting it out.

The best part? I’ve been smiling and laughing ever since.

Time to take on the world again.

Recession-proofing the Tooth Fairy

2009-03-30T07:12:00.000-07:00

I’m no economist, but from a purely elementary standpoint, the Tooth Fairy needs a more sound business plan. With no obvious income, her job requires her to dole out money nightly, presumably in various forms of currency. She likely has to pay quite a bit in bail, as well, with all that breaking and entering.

She also needs a professional organizer. Around the Sullivan house, she often forgets to deliver payments the first night my kids leave teeth out for her. Although she pays extra after forgetting a pickup, the kids still think she is cheap. With them, she seems to believe that $1 a tooth is enough (she does leave extra if a tooth extraction involved anesthesia or a fist fight).

By comparison, some of my children’s friends receive $1 for the first tooth, $2 for the second tooth, and so forth for a grand total of around $300, including wisdom teeth.

Until this year, I had never considered how the economy might impact the Tooth Fairy. But a spate of recession-time tooth loss in our house has me thinking that the Tooth Fairy may, indeed, be recession-proof.

When my 10-year-old son lost his first bicuspid, he woke up the next morning telling us that the "Tooth Fairy" (he mimed the quote marks) paid him an astounding $10. I fumed, wishing she’d return to her old ways.

At a time when I’m trying to teach my kids the value of money by showing them how to spend on needs, not wants, why does this squandering fairy have to provide such a poor example? Does she really need the teeth?

A few days later my son lost a second bicuspid. This time, the "Tooth Fairy" forgot to come.

In the morning I explained to my amused son that the "Tooth Fairy" might be feeling the recession. I suggested he write her a note. Maybe, I pleaded, he should write that he would appreciate whatever she could offer.

He played along and did just that. Trouble is, he printed the "Tooth Fairy’s" name in big italics with quotation marks around the words. When my husband saw the letter, he said, “Well! I guess it looks like we’re done with the Tooth Fairy!”

My son received another $10 for that tooth. Frustrated at my child's new spending power, I wondered if this was the Tooth Fairy's version of an economic stimulus package.

Five days later he lost a third bicuspid. Descending the stairs the morning after leaving out his tooth, he proclaimed, “Guess what? The Tooth Fairy (again miming quote marks) didn’t come again!”

A loud sucking sound filled my head as I jumped into emergency-action mode.

“Tell you what. I’ll front the 'Tooth Fairy' the money,” I said, pulling out my wallet (and miming quote marks). “But you have to write her a note saying she owes me.”

“OK...?” he said, grinning. “And $20 will be enough, because she didn’t leave extra the last time she forgot!”

“Twenty dollars? Not in this economy!” I laughed and handed him a fair amount.

With a glint in his eye and a raise of his brow, my son slowly slid the cash from my hand, said “Thanks, Mom,” and turned away with a smile.

I suppose the magicians of our youth give to each person what they think that person truly needs. If so, then receiving $1 for most teeth must be a positive indicator.

Likewise, if the "Tooth Fairy" never repays me, I’ll be reminded, yet again, how blessed I am.

A Dozen Dedications: Why I Love Teachers

2009-03-16T17:50:00.000-07:00

This “Thank you” is for Jessica Posson, who shows children how much fun school can be. This is for Denicia Erickson, Suzie Garcia and Kathy Greth who lovingly build confidence in their students. This is for Jennifer Heid whose sweetness and compassion make her classroom a loving environment. This is for Kim Kozuch who teaches her first graders how to speak Spanish and helps children embrace their individuality.

This “Thank you” is for Sara Martin who finds clever ways to bring out the best in her students. This is for Angela Serrano whose calm understanding and patience build children’s self esteem. This is for Tina Wise, who recognizes children’s potential. This is for Connie Weaver, who appreciates that free-spirited children have unique learning tools at their disposal.

This “Thank you” is for Eryn Neidle, who brings an understanding of technology into the classroom and helps children experience how education connects them to their world. This is for Kevin Mahoney, whose corporate background and whole-child approach to teaching prepare fifth graders not just for Middle School but for life.

My children have enjoyed instruction from all 12 of these Pleasanton teachers since 2003. This “Thank you” is for every teacher who makes unwavering efforts to get to know our children; for every teacher who inspires, motivates, encourages, and who cherishes his or her profession because of its countless existential rewards.

Let’s do everything we can to ensure that all of Pleasanton’s cherished teachers can continue to work their magic for many years to come.

Here's how to get involved: http://www.savepleasantonschools.org

One reason to be optimistic

2009-03-04T10:44:00.000-08:00

Besides the hope that all this rain will help get CA out of its drought, magnificent morning cloudscapes and a double rainbow in front of the foothills this morning offered a fresh dose of optimism.

Come To Think of It: What kind of mom are you? A quiz can't tell

2008-05-11T18:06:00.001-07:00

Here's a special-edition column for Mother's Day! Happy Mother's Day. Moms rock!

What kind of mom are you? A quiz can't tell

By Cameron Sullivan
Article Created: 05/10/2008 08:57:19 PM PDT

Last week I took a "What's Your Mom Type?" quiz I found in Redbook magazine. Normally, I cringe at quizzes that claim to tell me what kind of person I am in 10 simple questions. No one is going to box me into one of four, predetermined categories, each with its own specific, diagnostic traits.

I took the test anyway, answering with brutal honesty, if not a bit of attitude. One question asked, “To celebrate Green Week, your son has to recreate the natural habitat of an animal on the endangered species list... Your first thought when he brings home the assignment is...”

I answered (d), “this project ought to be fun. You can’t wait to see what he dreams up.”
Question 6 asked, “If we send a camera crew to your house on any weekday morning, it would look like an episode of:

(a) America’s Funniest Home Videos
(b) 30 Minute Meals with Rachel Ray
(c) Supernanny (the final segment when there’s peace and harmony)
(d) The Great Race.”

I wanted to answer all except (c), but chose (d), at no surprise to my friends, I’m sure. My clock runs about four minutes slower than standard time, which means we’re always rushing to get to school on time.

After completing the 90-second assessment of all my years as a parent, I tallied my score and laughed out loud when I saw that I fell into a category labeled “LOL Mom” (as in Laugh Out Loud). This type of parenting, said the magazine, is shaped by hilarity and fun. But the kids know the fun ends when someone breaks the rules.

My score also sat on the cusp of the “Wii Mom” grouping, which includes moms the quiz said have a strong sense of their own identity and know that fun starts when they encourage, rather than hover over, their kids. The quiz said these moms try not to lose themselves in parenting.

I took issue with the fact that only the “Wii Mom” received credit for having a strong sense of her own identity and for trying not to lose herself in the role of mom. Most moms I know tread a delicate balance between trying to be good enough moms while still pursuing careers, outside interests or hobbies of their own.

Therefore, with respect for moms of all kinds, I offer this tribute:

Until I became a mom, I had never used a diaper bag as a gym bag, and I always used the bathroom alone.

Until I became a mom, I had never picked someone else’s nose.

Until I became a mom, I took sick days.

Until I became a mom, I wasn’t patient. OK, I admit: I’m still not patient. But I’ve learned how to act patient, adding yet another skill to my repertoire of ruses.

Until I became a mom, I listened earnestly to society’s stereotypes of the soccer mom, single mom, stay-at-home mom, working mom, and blended-family mom, and I formed opinions of each. I now know all of these moms and appreciate their individual realities, successes and hurdles.

Until I became a mom, I had good friends, but never knew friendships as strong as those I now share with other moms.

Until I became a mom, I thought I was resourceful. I had no idea how resourceful I would become.

Until I became a mom, Girls Night Out was nowhere near as fun as it is now: Expect a huge return on investment when you unleash the reckless abandon of a mom who hasn’t had a shred of time to herself in days, weeks, or months.

And until I became a mom, I never knew how big I could smile, how hard I could laugh, how hard I could cry, or how much I could love.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Cameron Sullivan: Come To Think of It -- Swimmer takes to bocce ball

2008-04-28T09:42:00.001-07:00

Cameron Sullivan
COME TO THINK OF IT

Swimmer takes to bocce ball
Article Created: 04/28/2008 02:32:57 AM PDT
(originally published for Bay Area Newsgroup papers and online)

Upon discovering a burgeoning subculture of bocce enthusiasts last week, I have a new theme song. It goes, "I'm a bocce girl, in a bocce world."

Bocce ball may not immediately come to mind as a logical sport for a masters swimmer to add to her athletic endeavors. Running or cycling might make more sense. But despite the fact that I've been a competitive swimmer for the past seven years, I'm forging a divergent path.

Instead of triathlons, I'm taking up bocce ball.

Last week was my first encounter with a bocce ball. Now I’m hooked. I even learned that between Sunol on the west and Manteca on the east, every city is home to at least one bocce ball league; some have six or seven leagues. In other words, I should have no problem finding a team.

Trouble is, my wardrobe is all wrong.

When the members of my writers group surprised me with a birthday gathering at Campo di Bocce in Livermore last week, I arrived wearing conspicuously inappropriate attire. As our carpools unloaded in the parking lot, I noticed that the other four women among us wore slacks and flat shoes or stylish wide-heeled boots.

But my pals hadn’t told me where we were headed for the night.

Feeling spunky, I chose to dress up a bit more than usual and opted for a short skirt with three-inch-high stacked heels. High heels are about as proper on a bocce court as stilettos on a beach volleyball court.

It quickly became apparent that I would need a couple of glasses of valley wine to pull off this one. True bocce, after all, is played with a ball in one hand and a glass of wine in one the other. Or so I’m told.

My writers group consists of five dear friends, including Amy Moellering, the schools columnist for some BANG-East Bay papers, and Kathy Cordova, a Pleasanton-based author who co-hosts the “In a Word” book program on TV-30 with Herald columnist Jim Ott. Also among us are novelist Keely Parrack and gifted story teller Grace Navalta.

In the first few moments of our match, a surprisingly intense competition brewed, led by the normally mild-mannered Amy.

“Bocce is serious sport!” Amy informed us, adding that reunions with the Italian side of her family are filled with intense bocce ball matches. She even learned from the manager at Campo di Bocce that the surface of our bocce ball court was imported from Italy and that members of a USA Bocce team were in attendance at Campo di Bocce that night.

So while the rest of us were laughing and falling about all over the courts during our match, Amy nitpicked over the rules and took meticulous measurements of the distances between bocce balls and the pallino (a small metal ball that resembles a wingless version of the “snitch” in Harry Potter’s quidditch matches).

Soon I feared not so much the embarrassment of a wardrobe malfunction but that heels and a short skirt would hinder any deftness I could summon on the court, especially in the shadow of Amy’s expertise. Fortunately, it was not long before Amy acquiesced to her rules-averse friends. Measurements were approximated, balls were overthrown and a continuous crescendo of laughter erupted from our court.

When I ran into Kathy the next day, she proclaimed me the victor of our game. After humbly disagreeing with her, I soon began fantasizing that the members of the USA Bocce team may have noticed. Were there scouts among them? I wondered.

Now all I have to do is decide which of the dozens of leagues in the area to join. My only requirement is that they permit me to wear my lucky heels at the competitive level.

Come To Think of It: Plenty to do at home in these valleys

2008-04-21T09:37:00.000-07:00

COME TO THINK OF IT
Cameron Sullivan

Plenty for family to do in Area
Cameron Sullivan
Article Created: 04/21/2008 02:32:28 AM PDT

WHEN YOU live in the most beautiful place on Earth, it doesn't matter if you're a lousy hostess. People still visit. In fact, they don't even care if you're home. They come anyway. Just leave a key under the mat and they're happy.

I'm gambling that the family members who are visiting us this month won't notice my shortcomings in housekeeping, gardening and cooking as readily as they would if we lived in, say, Wausau, Wis., and had to stay indoors more often during an April visit. Not that there's anything wrong with Wausau; I've spent time there and it's a lovely place.

But I’m sure glad we live here instead. These valleys do a lot of good for my reputation.
In spite of the fact that I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head chopped off in preparation for a two-week onslaught of relatives coming to town from both Boston and Chicago, several tasks around the home will remain undone.

For instance, the master bedroom is now home to all the clutter I couldn’t find time or place to put away before the impending, overlapping visits from family members. The home office is even relocated into the bedroom. I keep the door closed.

In addition, rather than spraying weed killer on the tall grasses that recently sprouted in a flowerbed, I instead clipped down the grasses and buried them under some ivy overgrowth. With another heat wave, the grasses shouldn’t grow above the height of ivy until the relatives head back east. At that point, who cares?

We don’t plan to spend much time at home, anyway. When my three kids are in school, the adults will hop on BART and head into the city or visit the many charming downtowns in the area.

My two sisters-in-law and a brother-in-law from Chicago said they want to visit “the shore” while they’re here. I smiled at the expression, explained that it’s awfully chilly on the Pacific Ocean these days and added that with a few extra hours of driving they could reach warmer shores. I’ll even lend them the minivan.

Alternatively, with gas approaching $4 a gallon, staying local sounds better. If a spring day out in nature is all they crave, we could simply visit the shores of Lake del Valle and Shadow Cliffs, hike the Las Trampas Ridge and Mt. Diablo, or take a cruise on the San Joaquin Delta from Stockton. Some tours head to San Francisco for the day.

You can’t beat having natural beauty right in your own backyard.

My dad is happy so long as he’s got a driver in his hand and spikes on his feet. Given that these valleys have at least as many acres of golf courses as soccer fields, I’ll be lucky if I see much of Dad during the 10 days that he and Mom are here from Boston.

After the kids get out of school each day, we’ll spend our time shuttling between soccer practices at the beautiful Emerald Glen Park in Dublin, swim team practices in Pleasanton, baseball games in Livermore, and dance competitions across the Bay Area.

When we’re home, we’ll stay outdoors. The house is really only a docking station for luggage anyway. As a happy result, I’m not stressing out about the dust; we’ll just keep the lights dim at night.

Playing tour guide is much easier and a great deal more fun than having to keep my house tidy, cook gourmet meals and pretend I’m a domestic goddess.

After all, I’m no expert when it comes to hospitality. But whenever the relatives come to visit us in this beautiful place we’ve called home since 1997, we spend wonderful days together building special memories.

And in the end they always go home happy.

Newsflash - Now in 2 newspapers

2008-04-14T09:47:00.001-07:00

Newsflash - One month after cancellation of the Pleasanton Times, beginning Monday, April 21, 2008, my column, entitled COME TO THINK OF IT, will appear in two Bay Area/N. California newspapers and on the Web. More details on April 21.

Coming soon!

2008-01-17T12:59:00.001-08:00

Coming soon from the land of prolific writing .... reflections on life, liberty and the pursuit of 500 words a day. For now, check out my website: http://www.cameronsullivan.net/.